


Trust Us

by amorluzymelodia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Attempted Rape, Kidnapping, cursing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-22 20:08:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8298937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amorluzymelodia/pseuds/amorluzymelodia
Summary: You get kidnapped by the two mass murderers you’ve seen on tv, Sam and Dean Winchester. But are they as bad as they are made out to be?A/N: Bare with me if it’s not completely canon, just an idea I had floating around. Let me know what you think!





	1. Chapter 1

It was a normal Friday night for you. Well what you’d come to think of as normal anyway. You’d been working overtime at the hospital, taking extra shifts here and there, secretly hoping it would get the residents to like you more. But so far you hadn’t had any luck on that front and had been stuck cleaning up vomit and feces for the last week. Oh well, you hadn’t gone into nursing for the glamor of it, but to help people. And there were instances—few and far between though they seemed lately—that made it worth it. Like helping a scared little girl who’d fallen off her bike and broken her leg, or talking a teenager through a major surgery, and seeing them recover quickly. But this week hadn’t gone that well so here you were, at the local dive bar pounding double whiskeys like it was the end of the world. You didn’t have to work for the next three days and you were taking full advantage of the fact that you could sleep in tomorrow, hangover be damned. 

You raised your empty glass towards the bartender, and he hurried over to refill you, hardly saying a word. Someone sat down next to you and you turned to see two attractive men—who seemed oddly familiar. One had sandy blonde hair, freckles and startling green eyes. The other had longer brown hair and a kind smile and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you knew them from somewhere. The blonde one noticed you starting and shot you a flirty smile, which you returned hesitantly. He held your gaze for a moment and then turned to his companion, speaking in hushed tones. 

You fiddled idly with your phone, reading headlines without really absorbing information. There was an article on Reddit about some of the most mysterious, confusing killers in the past ten years. You clicked on it mindlessly and scrolled through a few no name serial killers without really reading anything or caring all that much. That was until you saw none other than the blonde and brunette that were sitting next to you staring up at you from the screen. It was their mugshots, and they looked much younger but it was definitely them. You twisted your body so prying eyes couldn’t read over your shoulder and clicked on the headline, scanning the article hurriedly. You were reading so quickly that you just picked up phrases here and there but what you read scared you. “Multiple murders” “grave desecrations” “assaulting police officers” were just a few of them. Panicking for a moment you dropped your phone and it clattered to the ground. The man next to you noticed and hopped off his stool to retrieve it. 

“Oh, um…” you stuttered, suddenly terrified as he picked up your phone and glanced at the screen, no doubt seeing his own face and he met your gaze, his eyes hard. 

“Thanks.” you said, taking the phone from his hand and grabbing your purse off the bar. “Excuse me.” you nearly fell off your stool but managed to get halfway out the door before someone stepped in front of you, blocking your path. You looked up to see an obviously drunk man swaying and smiling at you, a half-drunk beer in his hand. 

“Where you goin’ little lady?” he slurred and you wanted nothing more to get out of this bar, away from the two killers behind you and this idiot. 

“Move,” you demanded but he just laughed and ran a hand down your arm, gripping your elbow tightly. 

“That’s not very polite,” he pouted. “Just wanted to see if you wanted to get outta here.” 

You ripped your arm out of his grasp. “I do actually. But I’m sure as hell not going with you.” 

The man’s pout turned into a grimace and he took hold of your wrist, tight enough to bruise you were sure. 

“You’re being rude.” he hissed, blowing his putrid breath across your face. “I think you need to be taught a lesson.” 

“Hey, buddy!” a voice from behind you called and you tensed as you saw the sandy-haired man walk up. “She said no.” 

“Stay out of this man.” the drunkard slurred but the other man had at least a foot on him and wasn’t drunk off his ass. He didn’t stand a chance if this came to a fight. And knowing the blonde man’s history—or some of it anyway—you were sure only one man would walk away from that fight. Suddenly you felt the urge to stop a fight from breaking out, worried for your safety and the safety of everyone in the bar—even this asshole who still had his hand on your wrist—and you spoke quickly to the blonde. 

“It’s fine, really.” you told him but he didn’t look away from the man still holding on to you. 

“It’s not fine.” the blonde said gruffly. “You said no and he didn’t listen. Now take your hands off her before someone gets hurt.” 

The drunkard laughed and pulled your wrist harshly, causing you to lurch into his side. 

“This little bitch was asking for it if you ask me. Been looking at me all night, I’m just giving her what she wants. All whores in this bar are the same. I bet you’re just jealous I got to her first huh?” he scanned the blonde up and down and laughed under his breath. “You know what, take her.” he shoved you forward and the blonde man caught you before you fell. The drunk leaned in close and spoke quieter to the two of you. “Truth be told I prefer ‘em a bit younger, if you catch my meaning.” 

The next thing you knew the blonde had released his hold on you and was on top of the drunk, punching him repeatedly, knocking him on the ground before a bartender ran over and grabbed the back of his jacket, pulling him off while you just stood there and watched. You pulled out your phone and dialed 911, telling them there was a fight at a bar and you were scared but just after you’d given them the name of the bar there was a hand on your shoulder and you turned, seeing the long-haired man staring down at you. 

“Hang up,” he told you and you didn’t think twice before doing as he asked. 

“I—I wasn’t calling about you…” you stammered and his eyebrows creased before realization dawned on his face. 

“Alright, alright I’m going!” the blonde one was being shoved out of the bar by the bartender, along with the drunk who’d grabbed you. “C’mon Sammy!” 

The tall man next to you must’ve been Sammy because he looked after the blonde before looking down at you one more time and taking your hand. 

“Follow me.” he said quickly, his tone leaving no room for you to argue. 

You followed him out the front of the bar and into the parking lot, where the blonde one was leaning against a classic black car, wiping blood off his lip from the fight. 

“Nice going, Dean.” the brunette scolded but the blonde just waved his hand. 

“Bastard had it coming.” he said gruffly before his gaze fell on you. “You okay?” he asked and you were shocked at his question. 

“I—yes.” you stammered, getting more terrified by the moment, the phrases you’d read flashing though your mind. 

“She knows who we are, Dean.” the tall one said and the blonde one sighed and dropped his head to his chest. “I told you coming to a bar was a bad idea!” 

“Shut up! What are we supposed to do with her, Sammy? Huh? She’s seen our faces, seen the car! She’s bound to call the cops unless we—“ 

“Unless we what, Dean?” Sam demanded. “Kill her?” 

“That isn’t what I meant and you know it!” 

“Look please don’t hurt me I’ll give you whatever you want!” you cried and you turned as you heard sirens. The one called Dean sighed roughly and grabbed your elbow. 

“Fuck,” he hissed and shoved you into the backseat of their car. “Keep your head down.” he commanded. He jumped in the driver’s seat while the other one—Sam—jumped in the passenger side and they tore out of the parking lot, speeding down the back streets until they came to a stop at a shady rest stop. It was late and you were terrified to move, wondering if they brought you out here to kill you. 

“I’m gonna get some snacks,” Dean sighed and turned to his brother. “Watch her.” He got out of the car and headed towards the run down snack machine and Sam turned to look at you. 

“What’s your name?” he asked almost kindly but you just kept your mouth shut tightly. “We’re not gonna hurt you. We’ll explain all of this once we get where we’re going.” 

“Which is where exactly?” you asked quietly but he just sighed. 

“Can’t tell you right now, kiddo. But I promise you’ll be safe.” 

“Safe?” you scoffed. “You’ve kidnapped me! You’ve killed dozens of innocent people why should I believe you won’t hurt me?” 

He ran a hand through his long hair, looking disheveled. “I promise we’ll explain everything when—“ 

“When we get there yeah.” you sat back in the seat and sighed but tensed when the driver’s side door opened and Dean got back in. You were shocked when he threw a candy bar and a bag of potato chips back at you. 

“It’s not a steak dinner but it’s food, sort of.” he said and turned the car on. 

Only when your stomach started growling did you eat the candy bar and chips, and the processed foods hit the spot right away. You drove for hours on end, crossing state lines. You tried to stay awake during the long car ride to wherever the hell they were taking you but eventually your eyes started to droop and the seat got more and more comfortable. You didn’t mean to fall asleep but the next thing you knew someone was shaking you lightly. You jumped at the sudden contact and opened your eyes to see Sam with his hands up, showing you he wasn’t armed. 

“Whoa whoa it’s okay!” he said quickly. “We’re here, figured you’d be more comfortable in a real bed.” 

“Where’s here?” you asked and Dean popped out of nowhere. 

“Middle of nowhere.” he said, slinging a duffle bag over his shoulder. “C’mon let’s get inside, it’s freezing out here.” 

You followed them inside a beat up old cabin where Dean put his duffle bag down and collapsed on the couch, spent. Sam pointed towards the back. 

“There’s a bedroom back there, and a full bath too. If you wanna shower or anything.” 

You frowned at him. “You’re not gonna tie me up or anything?” 

Sam shook his head. “You’re not our prisoner. We’re all in this mess together. Like I said we’ll explain everything just…let’s get some sleep first.” 

“How do you know I won’t take off?” you felt stupid even mentioning it but Dean just laughed from the couch. 

“Where exactly would you go? We’re miles from anything and you have no idea how we got here. Sorry kiddo you’re stuck with us.” 

Sam rolled his eyes but looked at you kindly. 

“Like I said, we aren’t going to hurt you. Just get some rest and we’ll talk in the morning.” 

You hesitated and wrapped your arms around your middle, watching as Sam sat down at the rickety old table and reached behind himself, pulling a gun out of his jeans. You gasped and took a step back, and he met your gaze, realizing his mistake. 

“J-just a precaution.” he assured you but that didn’t make you feel any better. For all you knew the gun was a precaution in case you decided to run away or fight back. 

“How do you expect me to believe you won’t hurt me when you have a gun tucked in the back of your jeans?” you demanded and Sam ran his hands through his hair. 

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he said hurriedly. “But I swear, we aren’t bad guys. We didn’t take you to hurt you—“ 

“Then why did you?” you asked and he sighed roughly. 

“It’s…complicated. We couldn’t have you calling the police on us.” 

“Innocent people don’t worry about stuff like that.” you pointed out and Sam nodded. 

“Dean and I…we’ve got sort of a past with law enforcement. Granted, some of it was earned but most of it was just a big misunderstanding.” 

“The article said you…killed people.” you whispered, very aware that your next words could be your last, if you pissed them off. “That doesn’t sound like a misunderstanding to me.” 

“We’re not gonna kill you, sweetheart.” Dean’s muffled voice came from the couch. “Too much work and I’m too tired to clean up blood right now,” 

Sam shot him a glare. “Dean we’re trying to convince her we’re not going to hurt her.” 

“So what, Sam you wanna give her the talk?” Dean laughed. “I’m sure that’ll go over real well.” 

“Well what other explanation do you have to offer for all this Dean?” Sam yelled and Dean just shrugged. 

Dean groaned and sat up, his hair all mussed from the pillow. 

“Alright fine, I’ll give her the talk. Sit down, sweetheart.” he patted the space next to him on the couch but you stood your ground, not moving. He shrugged. “Fine, whatever. I’m Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam. But I’m guessing from the article you already knew that.” you nodded and he continued. “Sam and me…well we’re hunters. We hunt monsters.” 

“Monsters?” you said, incredulous. 

Dean nodded. “Mhm. Werewolves, vampires, ghosts, the works. They’re all out there and we hunt them down and kill them before they can hurt anyone. But sometimes they slip through the cracks and we have to clean up their messes. Those murders I’m supposed to have committed all those years ago, were actually done by a shapeshifter, which I took down. The grave desecrations were digging up bones to burn them, that’s the only way to get rid of a ghost.” 

You stood there in silence for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

“Okay so you’re killers…and you’re insane. Awesome.” you spoke quietly to yourself and Dean looked pointedly at Sam. 

“Told ya.” he said and flopped back on the couch. 

Sam stood up and walked over to you, which made you take a few steps back. 

“Don’t touch me!” you screamed and Sam held up his hands in a placating gesture. 

“Okay, okay.” he said slowly. “Look I know it’s hard to believe but I swear we’re telling the truth. We aren’t the bad guys here.” 

“Forgive me if I don’t take your word for it.” you said scathingly. 

“Look believe us or don’t believe us I don’t really care,” Dean said from the couch. “We just need to know you aren’t going to turn us in the moment we let you go.” 

“What incentive do I have not to turn you in?” you demanded. 

“We aren’t going to threaten you to keep you quiet if that’s what you mean.” Sam said, looking personally offended that you’d suggest such a thing. 

“Then what?” you asked and Sam shrugged. 

“I guess we’ll have to keep you with us until we figure something out.” Sam said and you eyed the gun on the table warily. “You still don’t believe that we aren’t going to kill you do you?” 

You shook your head. “I don’t trust the word of killers.” 

You saw hurt flash in Sam’s eyes for a moment before he nodded once and sat back down at the table. 

“Get some sleep.” he told you and both of them ignored you after that, going back to sleeping or putzing around on the laptop. 

You knew sleeping was out of the question after what you’d heard in the last half-hour but you also didn’t want to spend any more time with these two than you had to so you hurried to the back room. There was in fact a bed and adjoining bathroom, which you used quickly, splashing some water on your face. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world but you laid down anyway. You checked your phone and were unsurprised to find the phrase “No Signal” glaring at you from the screen. So you really were in the middle of nowhere, which was why Sam and Dean weren’t worried about you sneaking off. You briefly entertained the idea of taking the car keys from Dean’s pocket while he slept but thought better of it; the last thing you needed was to piss him off. Foregoing sleep completely, you huddled in a ball and watched the door to the bedroom, waiting for whatever tomorrow would throw at you.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Okay fair warning I'm not 100% sure where this story is going (hence why it's been on hiatus for forever) so I may change it up along the way but for now here is the second chapter! Enjoy!

You woke up to the smell of coffee. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but eventually your exhaustion got the better of you and you slumped over on the lumpy mattress. There was a blanket slung over you that hadn’t been there last night, and you guessed one of the boys had covered you with it in the middle of the night. Seemed kind of considerate for a killer to care about whether or not you were cold. Cautiously you padded your way out to the main room of the cabin to find Sam and Dean sitting at the table, a laptop open in front of Sam and a mug clutched between Dean’s hands. They looked up at you when you entered and Sam even offered you a small smile.

“Morning,” he said quietly. “How’d you sleep?”

You frowned, it seemed an odd question coming from your kidnapper, but then again this situation wasn’t exactly normal by any means.

“Um…fine.” you said awkwardly.

Dean pointed to a coffee pot on the counter of the outdated kitchen unit. “There’s coffee if you’re interested. It’s not very good but hell, caffeine is caffeine.”

You shook your head, still not trusting them enough to drink anything they offered you. “I'm good.” you said and Dean just shrugged.

You stood there awkwardly, crossing and uncrossing your arms over your chest and shifting from one foot to the other.

“Don’t look so nervous.” Dean said, taking a large gulp of coffee. “Jesus Christ we haven't even hurt you.”

“Not yet.” you whispered and Sam looked up from his computer.

“Not ever.” he said sincerely and though you couldn’t find a lie in his eyes you were hesitant to believe him.

You scratched absently at your arm. “So what _are_ you going to do with me?”

“We’ve got a friend we’re gonna go see.” Sam said, shutting his laptop. “You’ll stay with him until we figure out what to do. After that, I promise we’ll let you go.”

“You expect me to believe that?” you demanded.

Dean pushed back from the table, his chair scraping against the floor loudly. “Not really. Let’s roll. I’m sick of this craphole.”

Sam smiled at you awkwardly and started packing up his laptop and putting the used coffee mugs in the sink. Dean grabbed his duffle and headed out to the car. Sam seemed to be waiting to see what you would do, and when you sighed and walked out to the car he followed.

Dean instantly turned on a classic radio station and Sam rolled his eyes, turning the volume down but leaving it on. Turns out you were closer to civilization than you’d previously thought. Within a few very tense hours of driving you were on the outskirts of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Sam and Dean hadn’t been very clear about where they were taking you, or who their mysterious friend was. Sam had tried to start up a conversation with you a few times throughout the trip but each time you only gave half-assed answers, if you answered at all. Finally, you stopped for gas at a rundown little Gas-n-Sip and Dean hopped out to fill up the car while Sam ran in to use the restroom and grab some snacks. You sat there with your head leaning against the window and noticed out of the corner of your eye…that the door was left unlocked. Was that on accident or did they really expect you to stay put? You noticed Dean had finished filling up the car and had wandered inside. You could see him through the window looking at a magazine. It only took about five seconds to make your decision, and almost without thinking you had opened the door and started running around the side of the gas station, down the road towards the main town.

After running for a while you decided getting off the main road would be best, in case the Winchesters decided you were worth chasing after. You ducked into the trees and sat, catching your breath. Deciding you were safe to start walking again, you got up, though you kept slightly hidden in the trees, following the road. Eventually you saw a truck driving past and once you saw that it wasn’t the Winchester’s you ran out onto the side of the road waving your arms back and forth to flag it down. It pulled over and the passenger window rolled down.

“Need a ride?” the man called and you nodded. “Hop in.”

“Thank you,” you breathed and jumped in the passenger seat, not buckling your seatbelt, just in case.

“Where you headed, sweetheart?” the man asked.

“I don’t care. Just drive, please.” You said, constantly turning around to look behind you.

“You runnin’ from someone, kid?” he asked and you bit your lip.

“Sort of,” you said hesitantly.

The man narrowed his eyes, not driving yet. “You runnin’ from the law? I don’t need no trouble.”

You shook your head quickly. “Just…my boyfriend.” You lied, putting meaning behind your words and the man nodded knowingly before thankfully putting the truck in drive and pulling back onto the road.

As he drove you looked around the truck. There were cigarette butts strewn around, along with old fast food wrappers and what looked like empty beer cans. Well that wasn’t promising. Out of the corner of your eye you studied the driver. He was at least in his fifties but looked older with his shaggy beard and yellowed teeth. He reeked of tobacco and what smelled suspiciously like manure.

“What’s your name?” he asked conversationally but you were still on edge.

“Kate.” You lied, using a name of one of the nurses you worked with.

“Kate. Pretty name.” said and you tensed up, the way he was glancing at you making you uncomfortable. “I’m Lonnie. There’s a bus station not far from here. I can drop you there if you want.”

“Yeah that’d be great.” You breathed, scooting as close to the door as possible.

After about a half hour of very tense silence he pulled into a nearly deserted, run-down bus station. When he parked you made to get out but were surprised when the doors locked automatically. Slowly, you turned towards him and didn’t like the look he was giving you.

“Ain’t you gonna thank me for the ride?” Lonnie said suggestively and smiled lewdly. You grimaced and swallowed nervously.

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered but he just shook his head and put a hand on your thigh.

“Aw darlin’ I think you can do better than that.”

He leaned forward, grabbing your hair at the back of your neck and pulling your head back roughly. You cried out and struggled but he held tight, pulling your head down towards his groin. Adrenaline shot through you as you realized what was happening and you brought your fist around, catching him in the side of the head. It knocked him for a loop and he let go of your hair, so you dove over him, trying to reach the lock for the doors. However, he regained clarity quickly and knocked you over the head, getting on top of you and pinning your arms to your sides with his knees.

“Stop! Stop it!” You yelled. “Help!”

Though the bus stop had some cars parked and you had seen a few people inside when you’d pulled up, he’d parked far enough away and away from the streetlights that you were sure no one would hear you or see what was happening. Somehow, you managed to get one arm free and slam your hand down on the horn of the car, hoping the noise would be loud, and out of place enough that someone would come investigate. Lonnie hit you over the head again and you saw black spots dance in your vision and your head started ringing, which gave him the opportunity to pin your arms back down. When you screamed again he clamped a hand over your mouth, but you struggled enough that it slipped and you were able to bite down, hard enough to draw blood. Lonnie and lurched back, holding his injured hand, and you were able to reach for the door but the next thing you knew there was a knife being pressed against your throat and he had a hold of your hair again.

“Don’t make this harder on yourself, girl.” He said but you just spit at him, and he connected his fist with your face. Your nose started bleeding immediately and your head was still ringing.

You were disoriented and scared and just as he reached towards his belt the glass behind you shattered and a gunshot rang out and he fell on top of you, limp. You let out a scream as the door was wrenched open behind you and someone was pulling you from the truck with Lonnie still on top of you. The ground was hard and cold and you hit on your back with a painful thud. Whoever your savior was, kicked him off of you and pulled you against their chest. The feeling of their arms wrapped tightly around you only served to frighten you more and you kicked and wrestled with them until your foot slammed down, connecting with their shin and they dropped you.

“Ow, shit!” they cried and you scrambled forward, grasping the knife that lay abandoned next to Lonnie’s corpse and flipping around, slicing wildly. It was oddly satisfying when the blade connected with flesh and whoever it was fell back, clutching at their arm.

Someone else, however, came up behind you and pinned your arms to your side. They wrapped you in a vice-like grip, and pulled you to the ground, so you were wedged between their knees. In a last ditch effort, you slammed your head back and though your ears were ringing again you were pleased to feel bone break when your skull collided with their nose. He managed to get to a semi-standing position before you thrashed and you both went falling to the ground again. He stuck out his arm to catch himself and you heard something pop.

“Stop!” he said. “It’s okay, just—stop!” he was holding you tightly, but not too tightly so it hurt and after a few wasted moments of struggling your body went limp, like it was shutting down and the stranger stopped holding you so tightly. The knife went clattering to the ground again and you were too scared and shocked to care that you were crying pathetically and shaking.

“Hey, hey you’re okay!” the person was saying and in your panic you knew you recognized the voice but couldn’t place it. Your eyes were trained on the dead man on the ground in front of you, a bullet hole in the top of his head. “C’mon let’s get out of here.”

The shock was setting in, so you barely registered as the mysterious person led you away and put you in the back of their own car, before speeding down the highway. It wasn’t until you stopped at what looked like an old scrap yard that you were calm enough to get your bearings. Turns out your rescuer was none other than Dean Winchester, and you were back in his car with his brother. Tears were streaming down your face, and you were shaking like a leaf, but you didn’t struggle as they helped out of the car and into a large, if slightly worn down, house and sat you at a table. Someone draped a blanket over you and Sam knelt in front of you but you just kept staring forward, the sound of the bullet as it went through Lonnie’s head ringing in your ears.

“Hey…you okay?” Sam asked quietly, but you kept your eyes on the floor.

“I need a drink,” was all you said and Sam seemed shocked at your response, but nodded and stood up, getting you a glass of water, which you downed in two gulps, before looking up at him again. “Got anything stronger?” you asked.

“Here,” a voice said and you jumped, turning to see Dean walking in, handing you a bottle of whiskey.

Though you knew accepting a bottle of alcohol from one of the men who’d kidnapped you probably wasn’t a very good idea, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The events of the last day or so wouldn’t be out of place in a lifetime movie, and you very much wanted to crawl into the bottle of whiskey and never come out. You barely flinched as you took three large gulps and wiped your mouth on your sleeve. The Winchesters watched you in slight awe, neither seeming to know what to do. However, the awkward silence was broken by another man entering the room.

“Where you two idjits been?” he called.

He didn’t look intimidating, with his scraggly beard, wearing an old baseball cap and a dirty denim shirt over a stained tee, but you knew looks could be deceiving. He took one look at the three of you and his face fell. “What the hell happened?”

“Long story, Bobby.” Dean said, “You got a first aid kit?”

The man—Bobby—nodded and pointed towards the bathroom and Dean disappeared. Bobby gave you a long, wondering look but didn’t say anything; he just turned on the stove and filled a pot with water, setting it on to boil. Sam had taken his flannel off and was inspecting the gash in his arm. Dean came back in, setting a worn-out looking first aid kit on the table and handing Bobby a needle to disinfect. While Dean let the needles boil leaned against the counter with a groan, holding a bloody towel to his nose and a balancing a bag of frozen peas on his shoulder. You now noticed that Sam was limping slightly, and holding a towel towel to his slashed arm. A wave of guilt washed over you. Even if they’d kidnapped you, you were a nurse. Your job was to _help_ people, not hurt them. And from the looks of it, you’d hurt them both pretty badly—even if it was in self defense.

“You’re hurt…” You whispered, ashamed and Sam’s face turned sympathetic quickly.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He said, patting you on the knee. “You were being attacked, you were scared. Anyone else would’ve reacted the same way.”

“Still…” you said but Dean shook his head and spoke up from the opposite side of the kitchen.

“Stop beating yourself up, okay?” he said as he got the needle out of the water and strung some dental floss through it, you assumed that was all they had on hand.

“C’mere Sam let me stitch you up.” Dean said and you rolled your eyes.   

“There’s no way you’ll be able to do that with your shoulder dislocated.” You said. “Give it to me, I’ll do it.”

Dean gaped at you but you ignored him and sat next to Sam, using a disinfectant cloth from the first aid kid and focusing on sewing up the gash.

“I’m Y/N by the way.” You said quietly. Part of you figured it couldn’t hurt to give them your name. Maybe it would make it harder for them to kill you. However, that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. You couldn’t decide if you were thankful about that, or if it meant that worse things were coming first. After all, why else would they keep you alive this long? Save you from being attacked not once, but twice? Either way, you were kind of running out of options, and maybe befriending your captors would be the easiest way out.

Sam smiled at you but winced when you pulled the needle through. “Nice to meet you.”

“How are you so calm?” Dean asked, grabbing the bottle of whiskey as Sam panted next to you. “I mean me and him, we do this all the time but you…you’re a civilian. How are you so calm stitching a guy up?”

“I’m a nurse.” you answered, focused on sewing up Sam’s arm. “Have been for years. Sewing up a cut is almost second-nature by now.”

“Well damn,” Dean sounded proud. “Good on you, Y/N.”

“There,” you said as you tied off the dental floss and cut the excess. “I’m done. Give me that,” you reached out for the liquor and Dean handed it to you. You poured some on the wound, causing Sam to flinch but he let out a low sigh.

“Thanks Y/N.” he sighed and you nodded, putting a hand on his hair gently.

“Don’t tear out my stitches.” you warned him. “C’mere,” you told Dean, who was still cradling his dislocated shoulder. “I can fix that.”

“You sure?” Dean asked and you rolled your eyes, grabbing his shoulder and popping it back into place in one move. He cursed but thanked you after a long moment.

“Anyone want to explain to me what the hell’s going on?” Bobby spoke up from the corner, watching this all unfold with his arms crossed. To his credit, he didn’t look that shocked by the state of the Winchesters, which worried you a bit.

“We picked up Y/N at a bar in Spokane.” Dean said, expertly fashioning a make-shift sling out of Sam’s discarded flannel, earning him a dirty look from his brother. “She read about our uh… _past_ with law enforcement and kind of got spooked.”

Bobby raised his eyebrows. “She did? Or you did?”

“If getting spooked means kidnapping and holding a woman hostage then yeah, they definitely got spooked.” You spat venomously and Dean held up a finger to cut you off.

“Look, we’ve saved your hide _twice_ now sweetheart—“

“I never would’ve needed saving if you hadn’t taken me in the first place!” You were yelling now, but you didn’t care. You were royally pissed and the whiskey in your system and sheer exhaustion meant your filter was almost nonexistent. So much for befriending your captors. Shouting at them was much more cathartic. “ _You_ did this to me! This is your fault!”

“If it weren’t for us you would probably be waking up on the floor of that sleazy bar right now!” Dean shouted and you glared at him.

“Don’t you _dare_ judge me.” You growled. “I’m not the one who kidnapped an innocent woman and dragged her across three state lines! I’m not the crazy, gun-toting, psycho killer here!”

Dean actually looked hurt at your accusations, but you couldn’t feel too proud of yourself with the look he was giving you. He was obviously angry and you could tell you’d hit a nerve.

“Oh sweetheart you don’t know the half of it.” He said, his voice low and gravelly.

Without thinking you took two steps, putting yourself right in his face, trying to look menacing even though you stood at least a head and half shorter than him. But you steeled your gaze and glared at him with all you had in you.

“Call me sweetheart one more time and I’ll string you up by your dislocated shoulder.” You hissed venomously.

There was a long, tense moment of silence in which you and Dean stared each other down when he finally blinked and nodded, taking a step back.

There was a small laugh from behind you and you turned to see Bobby actually crack a smile. He pushed himself off of the counter and took a few steps towards you, holding out his hand.

“Bobby Singer.” He said, and you gave him a firm handshake. “I don’t know what all is going on, but trust me, you keep that fight in you and you’ll do just fine.”

“Thank you.” You told him and went out on a limb, hoping he was more understanding than the Winchesters. “I just want to go home.”

Bobby looked over your shoulder and you were sure he was having a silent conversation with Sam and Dean.

“We’ll uh…we’ll talk about that in the morning.” He said awkwardly and you just shook your head, refraining from stamping your foot like a toddler.

            “This is ridiculous! All I wanted was to unwind after a hellish shift and I get kidnapped by psycho Satan-worshiping killers!”

            Bobby looked to the two Winchesters in shock. “You _told_ her?”

Sam looked sheepish and scratched at the back of his neck but Dean just scoffed. “I was all for keeping my mouth shut but Sammy here wanted to give her an explanation!”

“Balls!” Bobby cried. “So what now? Cas? He could use his…” his eyes flitted to you and he edited his sentence quickly. “Mojo…to make the situation go away?”

That didn’t sound promising. Whoever this ‘Cas’ person was you didn’t like the sound of him. If the Winchesters were going to use him to ‘make the situation go away’ then that couldn’t be a good thing. He must be their cleaner or something—but why call him in now? Why not just kill you themselves? None of this made any sense.

Dean just shook his head. “You don’t think we thought of that? He ain’t answering.”

“Try again.” Bobby said. “And ask nicely.”

Dean rolled his eyes and when you expected him to take out a phone and make a call, he just closed his eyes and spoke aloud.

“Castiel, we uh, we could really use your skills right about now. So get on down here and help us out would’ja? Um…please?” he added lamely and the four of you stood there in silence for a moment before he opened his eyes and shrugged. “Told you.”

“This is insane!” you cried, the whiskey making you slightly paranoid and hyper, and you backed up towards the front entry.

You fully expected one of them to stop you, but when you turned around there was a tall man in a trench coat and dark hair staring down at you, and you were one hundred percent certain he hadn’t been there a second ago.

“What the hell?” you demanded and the man just cocked his head to the side, giving you a confused look that would be adorable if you weren’t so freaked out.

“Quite the opposite actually.” He said in a deep, gravelly voice. “How did you find her?” he asked the men behind you, keeping his eyes on you.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“She caught wind of our criminal record and we kind of kidnapped her so she couldn’t call the cops on us.” Dean answered but this new man just shook his head.

“Do you have any idea who this is?” the man asked, still looking at you oddly, as though you were a rare piece of art he’d happened upon.

“No?” Sam said. “Why, Cas? What’s going on?”

So this was Cas. Not exactly what you expected a hit-man to look like. But in that moment you started praying to any god that would listen, knowing that you were likely to die any second.

“I am not going to kill you.” Cas said to you, as though he knew what you were thinking.

“Cas what the hell are you on about?” Dean demanded and Cas looked up from your eyes—the first time since he’d arrived—and to the Winchesters and Bobby.

“We need to talk Dean.” He said seriously. “Privately.”

Oh shit. That couldn’t be good.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temporary Hiatus

Hey guys! So I have a couple of ideas of where to go with this fic but none of them are seeming to fall into place so I'm going to put it on temporary hiatus until I can figure out exactly where I want it to go. Don't worry though it isn't over yet! 

Thanks for the patience and the comments/kudos! 

As always if you have a suggestion or request you can send them here amorluzymelodia.tumblr.com/ask


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